


Coming Home to You

by Lady_Galadriel



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, I have no idea what tags to include, Original Character(s), and some lannisters, basically all of the starks, jonsa, jonsa baby, the boltons will show up too, this is the witch au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Galadriel/pseuds/Lady_Galadriel
Summary: After years of not seeing each other, Jon Snow shows up at Sansa's new home and asks her to come back. Arya's gone missing and nobody can find her and Sansa is the only one who can help. Sansa would rush to her sister's aid in a heart beat, except for one tiny detail.Sansa has a son. A little boy whose grey eyes and quiet demeanor resemble Jon way too much.Is she really ready to head back to a life of spells, potions, and enemies who are jealous of the Stark name and power, all while dragging her son in with her?
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 40
Kudos: 190





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time ever writing jonsa and I'm super nervous since I havent written in years but ihope you like it? Rating may change as the story moves forward.

Frost covered the windows as Sansa drew back the curtains in the kitchen. It was early in the morning, and not even the birds had sung yet. Sleep had evaded her that morning, and she didn’t have to guess why.

Three years. It had been exactly three years since she’d last seen anyone in her family, aside from her mother. She tried to call them every day, but she couldn’t handle lying to them every time they asked when she would be coming back. The truth was she wouldn’t be coming back. Ever. She’d worked hard to distance herself from the Stark name, not out of shame, she would never be ashamed to be a part of her family, but out of fear. The Stark name, like her family, was a powerful one, and with power like that came enemies.

Equally powerful enemies.

Sansa sighed, clutching the steaming mug of tea close to her chest, letting the warmth comfort her in the way her mother’s hugs no longer could. She watched as the sun rose and slowly melted the frost on her window. A thin blanket of snow covered the outside, and she felt a tug in her chest as she looked at it, her mind’s eye conjuring up his smile. Three years and nine months since she’d last seen him. She wondered…

A tug on her sweatpants snapped her out of her thoughts, and Sansa looked down to see the wide, grey eyes of her son looking up at her.

“Why are you awake, love?” she asked as she put her mug down on the counter and knelt before the little boy.

“It’s cold,” he said. He rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness of the kitchen. Sansa smiled, brushing his tangled auburn curls away from his face.

“Well, we can’t have that,” she picked him up and settled him on her hip. “I guess you’ll just have to sleep with mummy, then.”

The toddler smiled and settled into the crook of her neck, already falling back asleep as his mother walked them both to her room. They made their way around the corner into the hallway, and Sansa gently flicked her hand behind her, making the curtains draw themselves closed.  
…

“Good morning, Henry!” Jeyne, the daycare assistant, said as she saw Sansa approaching with her son in tow. It was Henry’s second day of daycare, and despite Sansa’s anxiety to leave him with someone who wasn’t his usual babysitter, she trusted Jeyne and know he was in good hands.

“Good morning,” Henry mumbled, looking at his boots. He was a shy boy, and quiet around anyone who wasn’t his mother.

Sansa smiled at Jeyne and let her take hold of his hand. She crouched down in front of him and kissed his forehead. “Are you all set, love?”

Henry was quiet, grabbing a hold of her hair. “Why can’t I go with you?”

Sansa took his little hand in hers, squeezing gently. “Because mommy has to work, love.”

“Why?”

“Because we need money.”

“Why?”

“Because we need a place to live and food to eat,” Sansa stood, hoping to end any more ‘Why’s’ Henry might have. She looked at Jeyne, and she must’ve read the worry on Sansa’s face as she spoke.

“He’ll be fine, Sansa, the kids took to him well and they won’t exclude him.”

Sansa nodded, “I know, he’s just so much like his dad…I worried he’d have trouble making friends.”

Jeyne smiled, “He has your charm, though, and that makes up for any shyness he may show at first.”

With that Jeyne ushered Henry inside, the little boy waving at Sansa before the door shut. Sansa tried to ignore the way her gut clenched as she walked away from her baby. She thought the second day would be easier, but she’d been wrong.

In truth, Sansa was more attached to her son than he was to her. She’d left home because of him, she had wanted to give him his best chance at life, away from everything that came with being a Stark. Sometimes, though, late at night when sleep evaded her, she wondered.

Had she made the right choice?

Sansa pushed away the thoughts before she could truly get lost inside her head. There was no time to dawdle in her thoughts now, she needed to go to work.  
…

“Here you go! Thank you for shopping with us,” Sansa told the older woman as she handed her a bag full of lotions and oils. The woman smiled and wished her a good evening.

Sansa followed her as she exited the store and turned the ‘Open’ sign over.

“Is it just me, or did today feel like it lasted forever?” Serafina said as she walked out from the back. She was the owner of a small, yet successful store that sold everything from body lotion and butt scrubs to a variety of special teas that helped ‘heal the soul’. She’d hired Sansa on the spot the day she came and applied three years prior, and Sansa had been there ever since.

Sansa turned and leaned against the door, nodding. A look at her watch told her it was 5:04. She had time before the daycare was officially closed, but after a long day she just wanted to go home and cuddle with her baby on the couch as they watched cartoons.

“How’s Henry handling daycare?” Serafina asked as she quickly counted the money in the register.

“He’s doing good, I think,” Sansa went behind the counter and started gathering her things. “He just needs time to adjust to being around other kids for nine hours every day.”

Serafina chuckled, “Does he miss Shae?”

“Yeah. He asked me last night when she was coming back because he wanted to show her his new spider man pajamas.”

“Oh my god, he’s so cute,” Serafina cooed.

Sansa laughed and walked towards the door. “Are you okay on your own? I can stay back and help you lock up.”

Serafina shook her head, waving Sansa away. “I’m fine, go pick up your baby.”

Sansa smiled and exited the store, shuddering at the cold.

“Send me pictures of his spider man pajamas!” Serafina yelled before the door completely closed. Sansa turned back and shot her a thumbs up through the window as she walked away.  
…

The evenings were Sansa’s favorite time of the day. She would get home and her and Henry would settle on the couch right away, kicking off their shoes and pulling up an episode of Tom and Jerry. It was Henry’s favorite, and Sansa loved to hear his giggles every time he thought something was funny. When the clock hit 7 Sansa would leave him on the ouch to make them dinner, always something quick and easy, and they’d eat on the couch to watch one last episode before bath time. By 8, Henry was settled into bed with a small wolf plushie Sansa had bought him one day on her way home from work, and she’d read him a bedtime story before it was time for lights out.

“…and chances are if he asks you for a glass of milk, he's going to want a cookie to go with it,” Sansa finished, closing the book and placing it on the nightstand. Henry yawned and cuddled his wolf, his eyes already closed.

“Goodnight, love,” Sansa whispered, brushing his hair back and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight, mommy” came the quiet reply as she exited the bedroom. She cast Henry one last look and then turned off the lights, closing the door as quietly as possible.  
She made for her bedroom, texting Serafina a picture of Henry doing the Spiderman pose in his pajamas as she walked. Before she could even reach her bed, the doorbell rang. Sansa let out a hushed string of curses and she hurried to the front door. She wasn’t expecting visitors, and she hesitantly peeked through the peephole, dread weighing down on her.

Sansa let out a gasp.

It couldn’t be.

She wrenched the door open and felt like she’d had a bucket of cold water dumped on her as she finally laid her eyes on him after three years. He looked startled, but quickly recovered and gave her a small smile.

“Sansa.”

“…Jon.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Come in,” Sansa said as she stepped aside, looking down at her feet as he walked past her. She led him to her living room, keeping an eye out for any of Henry’s toys that he constantly left everywhere. 

“It’s a nice place you have here...very cozy,” Jon said as he sat down on her couch, his back stiff and his eyes looking everywhere else but her. 

Oh god, they were having small talk. Jon had never been good at small talk. She needed to find out why he was here before the awkwardness killed her, or even worse, before Henry woke up. And yet, as she watched him take in her home, she couldn’t help but think that he hadn’t changed much. His hair was tied into a bun, and he’d stopped wearing black. There were bags under his eyes, but he was still the most handsome man Sansa had ever seen.

“Jon,” she began, the name weighing heavy on her tongue after years of not saying it. “What’s wrong?”

Jon let out a sigh, and finally looked up, grey eyes meeting blue in the dim light of the table lamp. It brought back memories of a that night, and Sansa fought the blush threatening to form as she remembered.

“There really is no pretending, is there?” 

Sansa gave him a small smile, “You forget that I know you, Jon Snow. You wouldn’t have come all the way here just to admire the coziness of my home.”

Jon stared at her a few more seconds before speaking. “Arya is missing.”

Sansa’s smile vanished. 

“What?”

“A week ago, she told your father she was planning a short trip near the coast, but that’s about it. She said she’d check in when she got there but, it’s been days, and no one’s heard from her.”

“M-maybe she forgot,” Sansa tried to reason, fighting back the panic surging inside. Her and Arya hadn’t always gotten along, but she was her little sister, and Sansa felt sick at the thought of something having happened to her.

Jon shook his head, “You know she wouldn’t, not after what happened to Rickon.”  
Rickon. Her sweet baby brother. Tears almost threatened to form at the mention of his name, but Sansa fought them down. Jon was right, which meant…

“Mother wasn’t able to find her?” she asked, already dreading the answer.

He shook his head again, this time casting his eyes to the floor. “Your mother can’t sense her anymore.”

Sansa shot to her feet. “But that would mean-“ 

Her heart sank. No…Arya couldn’t be- No!

Jon rose to his feet too, gently grabbing her arms and making her face him before she could start pacing the entire living room. “She’s not dead, Sansa, she’s just under a very strong cloaking spell.”

Jon was still holding on to her, and Sansa could see the calm mask he always wore slip away. He was scared, Sansa could see it, and she wanted nothing more than to make it go away. Jon let her go suddenly, taking several steps back, but not looking away. 

“How do you know?” she heard herself ask.

“Bran,” his voice sounder hoarser than before. “He managed to get a glimpse of her, but not where she was.”

Sansa sighed, walking towards the kitchen and motioning for Jon to follow. She put a kettle on the stove and brought out two mugs. “What do you need me for?”

She turned and leaned against the counter. Jon at least seemed to hesitate before speaking. “Robb was able to find a potion to help find her, but-“

“But you all suck at brewing potions and you need me to make it,” Sansa guessed. 

Jon nodded. 

Sansa debated. She couldn’t say she’d completely abstained from doing magic, a healing potion here or there for Henry’s colds, a spell to fix a broken faucet. It was simple magic, though, and she had a feeling whatever spell Jon had in mind was anything but simple. But Arya was her sister, and if she truly was in danger, Sansa would do anything to get her back.

“Okay, I’ll make it,” Sansa said, and Jon’s eyes lit up. “But it’s going to have to be here.”

“What?” The smile that had been forming on Jon’s face fell. 

“Just get me the ingredients and I’ll make it here.”

“Why?

“What do you mean why? I want to make it in the comfort of my own home, is there something wrong with that?” Sansa felt her voice waver as she struggled to hide the truth from Jon. If she could just make it here while Henry was in daycare, nothing would change. She would give Jon the potion and just wait for a word from her mother when Arya was found. But the fact that her mother had hidden it from her in the first place angered Sansa, and she almost considered going back just to ask her mother why. 

“Home?” Jon’s voice brought her back to the moment. “You really consider this your home? All alone up here? Away from your family? Your friends? Me-“

Jon’s mouth clamped shut but it was too late. His words hit Sansa like a blow to the gut, stealing her breath. She hadn’t wanted to think about it, but he was right. As much as she loved being here with Henry, pretending they were normal, pretending she didn’t need anybody else, it was just that. Pretending. She missed her family every day. Her best friend, Shae, who had lived near her and babysat Henry while she was at work, had gone back home and Sansa missed her already. She missed Jon.   
But Sansa knew she owed Henry a chance to live away from it all. The magic, the fighting, the backstabbing, and the weight that the Stark name carried.

“Where I live is my business, Jonathan!” Sansa bit back. 

Jon recoiled at the name, opening his mouth to yell something back, but Sansa held up her hand, stopping him. It had been a faint sound, but she’d heard it, nonetheless. Somewhere in the house a door had opened, and Sansa’s heart jumped to her throat as she heard the small footsteps heading their way.

Oh no.

“Who else is here?” Jon asked, having heard them too. 

Sansa wracked her mind for an explanation, but there was none. Nothing she could say would soften the blow as Henry stepped inside the kitchen, grey eyes wide and confused.

“Mommy, who’s that?”

Jon whirled around to face Sansa, and she knew nothing would make the surprise and hurt in his face go away. Her feet felt like lead as she walked towards Henry and picked him up. His eyes never left Jon’s, and Jon’s never left his. Their resemblance stood out even more now that they were in the same room. Sansa saw the moment it dawned on him, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to say something. 

“Henry this is Jon. Jon, this is my son Henry,” Sansa said, her voice calm even though her heart was beating as if she’d just ran a marathon.

“Hello,” Henry waved, surprisingly not hiding away in his mother’s shoulder. 

“H-Hello,” Jon stuttered out, giving him a strained smile. His gaze kept shifting from Henry to Sansa, and he looked like he needed to sit down. 

“Let me put him back to bed,” Sansa said, beginning to head back towards Henry’s room. 

“No! it’s fine. I should get going,” Jon spoke up, and started walking towards the door. Sansa followed him, putting Henry down as Jon opened the door and stepped outside. 

He turned back to look at her, and they both stood in silence. Now that the truth was out, she wanted to ask him stay, to get to know Henry properly, because even though she knew it was foolish, a part of Sansa still dreamed of being a family. 

“Bye Jon,” Henry broke the silence, looking at him from behind Sansa as he hid from the cold.

“Goodbye Henry,” Jon said, the small smile he gave him this time real. He looked back at Sansa. “I’ll come back in the morning, if that’s okay with you?”

Sansa nodded. With one last lingering look at her and Henry, Jon walked away into the cold night.   
…

“Is Jon your friend?” Henry asked as Sansa tucked him back into bed. 

“Yes,” Sansa replied with a smile she hoped was convincing. 

“Is he my friend too?”

Sansa paused. “Yes.”

Henry grinned and hugged his wolf tighter. “Why was he here so late, mommy? Doesn’t he have a bedtime too?”

Sansa sat on the floor next to his bed. 

“He needed to tell me something very important,” she said, brushing his curls away from his face. “And no, love, adults don’t have a bedtime.”

Henry yawned. “That’s not fair,” he mumbled, snuggling his wolf and drifting off to sleep. 

Sansa chuckled and stood. She kissed his forehead and tip-toed out of the room. Once she was alone in the hallway, she let out a sigh. Sometimes she wished there was a potion to get rid of feelings, then maybe she’d have a chance of forgetting about Jon Snow.

Sansa hadn’t even made it to her bedroom this time when there was a knock on her door. Her gut twisted and the hairs on her arms rose. Something was wrong. She flicked her hand and Henry’s door locked. She cautiously stepped towards the door, but she didn’t even reach it before it was blown back off its hinges. Sansa collapsed backwards from the force with a yelp. She could hear Henry scream as he was startled awake, and she stumbled to her feet and raced to stand before his door. 

Two men walked inside, stepping over the fallen door and towards her, eyes glowing in the darkness. 

“Who are you?” she demanded, raising her hand in warning for them to stop, she could hear faint crying coming from behind the door, and she felt furious, which helped keep her from freezing in fear. 

They didn’t answer. They surveyed the living room to their left, and the hallway past Sansa. One man, with long hair blowing around him from the incoming wind, stepped forwards. His eyes glowed a faint orange. 

“Where is Snow?” he grunted.

They were here for Jon. They must’ve been tracking him. Something told Sansa these men were in someway related to what happened to Arya. 

“He’s not here,” she said, hoping they’d leave and wouldn’t hear Henry still crying in his room. 

“Liar. We saw him come in here,” the other man, with blue hair, spoke up. 

“He’s gone,” Sansa insisted, feeling herself grow more anxious by the minute.

“Where?” asked the long-haired man, stepping closer again. 

“He went left,” Sansa lied. 

The long-haired man looked back at his partner, who nodded. Sansa took the opportunity to flex her fingers and conjure up a spell. If these men didn’t leave, she’d have to do something to keep her son safe.

“Well, looks like we missed him.”

He turned to Sansa again and gave her a smile that sent shivers down her back. “Guess we’ll have to settle for another Stark, then,”

And then they lunged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your reviews and kudos!!They truly meant alot and I read every comment ya'll left. I was super nervous posting this fic but I'm so glad you guys liked it. I took a while to finish this chapter since I had finals for my classes so I'm sorry for the delay. Anyways I hope you liked it too and I'm sorry for the cliff hanger :)))


	3. Chapter 3

“Sansa!”

The sound came from somewhere amidst the smoke that hung around the room like a blanket. Sansa held a limp Henry in her arms as they both stood inside the small protective circle she had made them, the only place in the house that wasn’t on fire. The window that Sansa had broken to escape only made the flames grow, and before she knew it, walls were collapsing around her.

They needed to get out. Now.

“Sansa! Henry!”

Sansa turned to see Jon standing where the bedroom door had once been. He had a blanket in one hand and the other was raised in front of him as he cleared a path in the fire. His eyes glowing an icy blue. The tears Sansa had been holding in started to fall. When Jon reached them, he embraced them both tightly, tears in his eyes.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Sansa stopped him. “T-there’s no time, we need to leave now!”

Jon nodded, and reached to take Henry, but Sansa tightened her hold on her baby. Despite having known him all her life, Sansa didn’t know how much the gesture stung Jon. He gave her the blanket to throw over Henry instead and began leading them out of the house. The walls still standing groaned and creaked, and Sansa felt like the heat was drowning her as they made their way to where the front door had stood. Even as they stepped outside, the coldness of the snow a shock to Sansa’s bare, burned feet, the heat didn’t subside.

Neighbors crowded the street and sidewalk. Some tried to approach Sansa, but Jon shielded her from them as he led her towards a sleek black car. If the situation were different, Sansa would have teased Jon for still using one instead of finally learning how to use portals, but right now her son was unconscious, her house on fire, and her worlds were colliding.

“Get in,” Jon said as he threw the backdoor open, “I’ll get you both to the nearest hospital and-“

“No,” Sansa shook her head, leaning her weight against the car. She cradled Henry closer and took comfort in feeling his heart still beating at a steady rhythm. How she wished she could have kept him to herself a little while longer, let him be a normal kid just a few years more. But the horn of a fire truck sounded in the distance, accompanied by police sirens, and Sansa knew she wanted nothing more than to be home, her real home, surrounded by those she loved.

“Where else can we go? You’re _hurt_ , Sansa!” Jon argued, but even then, he gently placed his arms around her as he tried to keep her from falling sideways. Maybe it was the searing pain of her wounds finally being registered by her brain, or her exhaustion, but Sansa found herself calling out for home.

‘ _Mom_ …’ The portal opened beneath them in an instant, and Jon gasped as they fell through. The last thing Sansa felt before the darkness took over were Jon’s arms tightening around her and their son.

…

Sansa woke to various voices talking over each other, and the feeling of hands laying her down over something soft. Her eyes fluttered open, but she screwed them shut against the bright ceiling lights. Sansa groaned.

“It hurts! Mommy!”

Henry. He was crying. Sansa’s eyes flew open, and she sat up, but regretted instantly as her head began spinning. Jon was holding Henry, and he squirmed and screamed as he held on to his stomach. Bran was on his wheelchair, by the fireplace, but his eyes were rolled back, and Sansa knew he was having a vision. Her father stood next to Robb, both looking back and forth between Jon and Henry, no doubt seeing the resemblance.

“I’ve got it,” Catelyn Stark strode into the living room. She held a glass vial and spoon in her hand. “Give him this, Jon, it’ll ease the pain, and help him sleep. He’s too young to have traveled through a portal.”

Jon obliged, somehow managing to get Henry to swallow a spoonful, and his cries quieted immediately. He curled against Jon, who looked down at him in awe, cradling him close, and he was asleep before Jon could even lay him down on the love seat.

“Sansa!” Robb called, the first to notice she was awake. Jon, Robb, and her father all rushed to her side, kneeling in front of the couch she lay on.

“How do you feel?”

“What happened?”

“Who hurt you?”

The questions flew at her one after the other, and Sansa winced at the headache the came with them.

“Can’t you see she’s hurt,” Catelyn scolded them, swatting at them to move away.

“Mom,” Sansa croaked as Catelyn sat on the edge of the couch. She brushed Sansa’s hair away from her face, and then filled the spoon again with the potion. Sansa wanted to take it, to fall asleep and forget the night had happened. But her family needed to know Jon was being followed, and that whoever attacked her had taken Arya too-

“Drink this, Dear,” she said as she held up the spoon to Sansa’s face.

“I-“

Catelyn shushed her, “I know you have a lot you need to say, but that can all wait. Drink it and sleep, Sansa, you need to rest.”

Sansa did so, the pain starting to fade instantly. She felt drowsy, and she reached out to give her mother’s hand a squeeze. Her eyes found Jon’s, as he stood next to Henry, and then she fell asleep.

…

When Sansa woke up again, she was alone in her old room, snug under a thick blanket. In her drowsiness, she forgot for a moment that this wasn’t her bed anymore, not really. She threw the covers off and got up, gasping when her feet touched the floor. The hardwood was cold, and it sent Sansa back to last night, stepping into the snow, the shock barely allowing her to feel the cold, or pain. She looked down. Her feet had been bandaged, and she could faintly smell chamomile and eucalyptus. One of her mother’s special healing creams, no doubt. She looked around her room, and found that it hadn’t changed at all, but then again, knowing her mother, she wouldn’t have allowed anyone to disturb it.

Sansa walked the halls of Stark Manor, and ghosts of the past ran by her as memories made their presence known. She’d had a happy childhood, and that’s all she wanted for her son as well, wherever that may be. She found her family eating breakfast in the dining room, and when they noticed her all the talking stopped. Everyone except for Henry, who was munching happily on pancakes and wiggling in his seat.

“Good morning, Sansa,” Catelyn spoke up, smiling as if everything was normal and totally not awkward. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright, all things considered,” She said, offering her mother a small smile.

“Sit down and eat, Dear. You need food if your body is going to heal.”

Sansa nodded and fixed herself a plate. She sat down in between Bran and Robb, who continued to eat like they’d never seen pancakes before. Henry sat in front of her, next to Jon, and he grinned at her with syrup smeared cheeks.

“I asked Henry what he wanted for breakfast and he said pancakes, so I figured I’d make some for all of us,” Catelyn said, her smile still bright. Too bright.

“These pancakes taste better than yours, Mommy,” Henry said, his mouth full, unaware of the sudden tension in the air.

There were a few chuckles around the table, and it warmed Sansa’s heart to see Henry being around her family, sitting comfortably next to Jon. He looked at home. Her eyes darted over to her father. He was quiet, and his eyes kept moving from Sansa, to Henry, to Jon.

“Yeah, mom, they taste great,” Robb said, smiling, but his eyes screamed for help as he looked over at Jon.

Jon simply shrugged, looking like he’d rather jump in the frozen lake than keep sitting there. At least he had Henry to distract himself with. Sansa watched as Jon asked Henry about his Spiderman pajamas, and Henry started rambling about Spiderman being the best superhero. Jon quietly disagreed, naming Iron Man instead, and a small debate started between the two.

“Sansa, after breakfast we’ll be having a family meeting in the library. Will you join us?” Catelyn asked, throwing a glance at Ned before looking at Sansa.

Sansa nodded, already dreading it. “What about Henry?”

“Well, Henry can play in-“

“Who’s the father?” Ned asked, and the whole table froze.

Sansa thought maybe standing in a burning room hadn't been so bad after all, compared to this. She looked over at her father, but she said nothing. Ned glanced at Jon for a brief second, his gaze cold. He already knew the answer, and she wondered why he would ask her now, in front of her son. Henry, finally taking notice of the situation, stared at Ned, his grey eyes wide and scared.

“Who. Is. The. Father, Sansa?” he asked again, the grip on his fork making his knuckles white.

Sansa’s hands were shaking under the table. Her father had never talked to her that way or looked at her like…that.

“Ned, I don’t think now is the best tim-“

“You left without so much as a goodbye, letting your mother tell us some excuse that you were going away because you wanted to study to become a ‘teacher’, only to finally appear after three years with a bastard you never once mentioned in tow!” Ned shouted.

Catelyn, Jon, and Robb all jumped to their feet, and Sansa could feel the rage from each one of them, all aimed at her father.

“Eddard Stark!” Catelyn roared, her anger charging the air around them with electricity, “That is no way to talk to your eldest daughter. Apologize this instant or leave!”

Ned huffed, looking around the table. When his eyes found Henry’s, shining with tears, he threw his napkin on the table and stormed out. The room was silent, until Henry’s sniffling unfroze Sansa, and she rushed over to pick up her son. She felt so stupid, thinking even for a second that they would accept Henry without question. How she wished they were back in their small house, oblivious to it all.

“Sansa, I’m so sorry,” Catelyn said softly, approaching Sansa and Henry slowly. "I know with everything that’s been going on with Arya, your father’s stressed, but that is no excuse for him to treat you lik-"

“This was a mistake,” Sansa choked out, shaking her head, her eyes brimming with tears. “I should have known better than to come here.”

“Don’t say that, this is your home,” Robb spoke up.

“How can this be my home if my own son can’t be accepted by his family?”

“Who said we don’t accept him?” Robb asked.

Sansa didn’t answer.

“I think you forget, sis, but father doesn’t speak for all of us,” Robb smiled and walked over to Henry, ruffling his curls. “Hey Henry, I’m your uncle Robb,” he said softly.

Henry started at him. He didn’t really know what an uncle was yet, but when Robb made a Spiderman toy appear out of thin air and handed it to him, his eyes widened, and he smiled.

“Mommy, Uncle Robb just made Spiderman appear!” he wiggled in Sansa’s arms until she put him down and began playing with the toy. Robb made more Avengers toys appear and sat down next to him.

“Robb is right, just because father is upset doesn’t mean we don’t welcome him,” Bran agreed, maneuvering his wheelchair to Sansa’s side. He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “He’s family, he belongs here. You both do.”

A tear ran down Sansa’s cheek, and she was overwhelmed with the love she felt for her family. How lucky they were, to have each other’s backs unconditionally. She felt a hand gently placed on the small of her back and turned to see Jon. He gave her a small nod, and she knew he meant that despite everything that had happened, he’d be at her side no matter what.

“Thank you,” she said, wiping the tear away.

“Will you stay, then?” Catelyn asked. Sansa looked down at Henry, still playing with Robb. They still needed to find Arya, Sansa had to talk with her father, and Henry needed to know who his father was. There were a lot of things that needed to be dealt with, but the one thing Sansa was sure of was that she was home. They both were.

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't yall love awkward family meals? I stayed up late last night trying to finish but I ended up falling asleep :)  
> Anyways I hope you like it :)))  
> I know Ned is kind of ooc, lashing out at Sansa like that, but I'll be honest, I never thought he was a good father to her the way he was to Arya. I'm not hating on them tho!   
> I'll try and get chapter 4 out by new years but no promises :)


	4. Chapter 4

Sansa stared at the wooden door in front of her, trying to pluck up the courage to knock. She had never been fond of confrontation, but she knew she needed to do this. She knocked before she had the chance to think too long on it. After a few seconds of silence, a muffled voice called out from inside.

“Come in.”

Sansa opened the door none too quietly and with too much force, but she caught it before it could bang against the wall. Her father sat behind his desk, looking weary already despite it not being noon yet. 

“Sansa!” Ned shot to his feet once he saw it was her. 

Sansa faltered, but the very fresh memory of what had happened at breakfast just twenty minutes prior pushed her to walk forward and sit in the chair cross from him, back straight and blue eyes colder than the winter nights. 

“Sit, Father.”

Ned sat, and immediately began throwing out apologies. “I’m so sorry Sansa for my behavior. I have no idea what came over me, but you know I would never say such things, especially in front of-“

“Would you have thought it, though?” Sansa interrupted, ignoring the voice telling her that it was rude to interrupt an adult when speaking. 

Ned paused, fidgeting with the pen he still held. “I-No, I would never. I’m sorry-“

“I’m not the one you owe an apology to, Father,” she interjected calmly.

Ned’s eye twitched, and his fidgeting increased. 

“Henry is the best thing to have ever happened to me,” She began slowly. “He’s sweet, and curious, and so, so smart. If you let yourself get to know him, I know you’d love him.”

Sansa rose from her seat.

“I won’t force either of you to spend time together, but I will tell you that your grandson is a wonderful little boy, and I know he’d love to have his grandfather in his life.” 

With that Sansa strode out of the study, back still straight and head held high. When she closed the door behind her she let out a breath. She’d stood up for her son against her father, and Sansa thought, with a painful tug in her chest, that she wished Arya were here to see it.   
…

Stark Manor, despite it’s many rooms, only had one room where Sansa remembered being allowed to do magic. 

“Why can’t I be in the same room as Arya or Robb?” eight-year old Sansa asked as Catelyn led her to a room with a rose engraved on the door. 

“Because, everyone’s magic is different, Dear. When you brew your potions and cast your spells, only your magic must be present as you develop it,” Catelyn explained, looking down at her and brushing her hair back with a soft smile on her face. Sansa watched with wide, blue eyes as Catelyn opened the door, and together they walked inside. 

Sansa now stood in front of the same door, now at eye level with the engraved rose. Goosebumps trailed up her arms, but not from the cold. Magic resided inside. Her magic, and it recognized her just as she recognized it. Sansa held her breath as she grabbed the doorknob and turned, but it opened easily, and swung open to reveal her room the same way she’d left it. Walking in, Sansa could tell someone had been cleaning it, despite nothing having been moved, it was spotless.

“Your mother came in and cleaned it three times a week.”

Sansa whirled around to face Jon, a stunning spell at the ready, even though she’d never really been good at them. Jon at least had the decency to look mildly alarmed, but they both knew Sansa’s spell probably couldn’t even harm a rabbit. 

Jon raised his hands high, letting the book he was holding drop to the floor. “Don’t shoot,” he said, and then grinned as Sansa rolled her eyes. 

“Everything is exactly where I left it,” she picked up a small notebook that was on the floor. It was old and had torn edges, with faded flower stickers all over it. The night she’d left, she’d stormed inside and thrown her special potion books into a backpack, spilling journals and books on the floor as she searched for them, she hadn’t even bothered to look back as she was walking out.

“This was my first journal,” Sansa said, and opened it to see “Property of Sansa Stark” written in wobbly cursive. She smiled as she remembered the day she’d gotten it, setting it down on her old desk against the wall.

“Your mother always said you would come back, so she made sure to leave it as it was,” Jon walked around a pile of books on the floor towards her. 

Sansa had to stop herself from taking a step back. It had just dawned on her that they were alone, and suddenly she felt goosebumps for a reason that was not related to magic at all. It was fine. She was fine. So what if he was close enough that she could smell his cologne, she was a grown woman, she could handle herself. But wow, his cologne smelled good, really good...

Jon let the book drop on the desk, snapping Sansa out of her thoughts. It wasn’t just any ordinary book; it was the Stark family’s Grimoire. 

“The potion you found was from the grimoire?” she asked, looking up at Jon, ignoring the fact that they were close enough for their shoulders to brush. 

Jon nodded, flipping the book open to a bookmarked page. Sansa could feel the magic coming from the book, her fingers tracing the design on the edges. It was old, heavy, and it made the air feel charged. If Sansa’s magic were a sunny, crisp winter’s morning, then the grimoire’s magic was a blizzard at night. 

“This potion, this magic...it’s going to be a tricky one to craft,” Sansa noted as she eyed the ingredients list and instructions. 

“But not impossible?” Jon asked, and Sansa felt his breath on her neck. 

She looked up to see that he was already looking at her. She shook her head. “Not impossible.”

He was so close; it would be so easy to just reach out for him. Jon’s eyes roamed every inch of her face, and Sansa let him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Because,” her hand clutched the edge of the desk tightly, “back then I thought it was for the best that no one knew.” 

Jon’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why? Sansa that makes-”

“I know it makes no sense but- you were back with Daenerys and I know you loved her a lot and I figured that-”

Jon took a step back, shaking his head. “W-who told you we were back together?” 

Sansa fidgeted with the pages of the grimoire, looking down at the stone floor. “I saw you. It was the night before I left. I couldn’t sleep so I grabbed mom’s broom and went flying. When I came back, I saw you two-”

“Out in the gardens,” Jon finished for her. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “It wasn’t what it looked like, Sansa. She wanted to get back together, but I said no.”

“You said no?” 

Jon nodded, stepping back in front of her. If he came any close their chests would touch, and Sansa was sure he would know how fast her heart was beating. 

“Why did you say no?” 

She wanted him to say it was because of her. That their night together hadn’t been a spur of the moment mistake. She wanted him to say he’d chosen her. Jon leaned in even closer.

“I-”

“Sansa, mom said you were down here and I-” 

Jon and Sansa jumped apart. Robb stood in the doorway, his eyes flicked between Jon and Sansa, before his lips pulled into a grin. 

“I am going to retreat back upstairs. Bring the grimoire to potion room two once you’re done!” 

Robb ran off, and the awkward silence that followed made Sansa want to crawl into a hole and hide. Jon was shifting on his feet; his mouth opened and closed several times before he finally picked up the grimoire and made his way to the door. 

“We should go, they’re probably waiting,” he cleared his throat and cast Sansa one last glance before walking out. 

Sansa was able to follow five minutes later when her knees had finally stopped shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) "ill try to get chapter 4 out by new years..." i tHOUGHT. anyways im sorry im so late i hope you guys liked it and i'll try to update as soon as possible, might as well take advantage of the fact that school is sorta cancelled right now. See you next time!


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